Can you hear it?
by kuefox
Summary: Can you? The wonderful sound of metal hitting ground? Clank, clank, clank...


** Hi~! Okay, this one's kinda...creepy. My Doitsu said it was "Too creepy! I'd never do anything like that! Stupid, why can't you be normal?" to which Me and my Russia just laughed. Russia like it...and so did my America and Canada. But, eh. This was my first time at something bloody/gore. I rated it T, but now I'm not so sure...(-_-)' Anyways, hope you like it!  
>Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or anything like it!<strong>

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><p>Can you hear it?<p>

That sound?

That beautiful sound-the sound of metal hitting ground. _Clank… clank…clank_.

Now, now you can hear it drag-drag across the barren floor that was once holy, now showered with a magnificent color of crimson. The delicious color, the _alluring_ color, the color that he could just touch and feel and smell all day, every day. It made him tremble with excitement at the mere thought of catching a glimpse of the wondrous color.

Tell me, can you hear it _now?_ As he drags the beautiful piece of steel-the wondrous piece of horror and terror in his hands? Hush, and shush, as he slowly closes in on his prey. His prey-one of the last of his kind-trembles and shakes violently with fear and pure shock at the sight of the monster in front of him. This monster-the monster whom he thought was once his friend, his _loveliest_ friend out of them all, the much more preferred out of them all, the man whom he shared an oath to, his love, he believed. All those thoughts were now shattered, along with his heart and the stained-glass windows aligning the walls. Tears brimmed the edges of his eyes, blurring his vision. His tear-stained cheeks shone brightly against the lone candle that lit up the worshipped place. His large, innocent honey-glazed eyes grew large at the sight of the torture instrument in the monster's hands. Can you see how scared he is? Can you feel the _terror_ in those eyes?

The monster stopped in his blood-soaked tracks, gazing down upon his weak, frail prey before him. A twisted snarl-a snarl only _he_ can portray-dances on his pale face.

The prey's eyes widen in horror-sheer _fear_ at the giant hovering above him. He tries to get away, get anywhere but there, anywhere but with that monster who's shattered his trust in _anyone_, shattered his faith, shattered his whole _being._ His small, weak frame hit the wall behind him, causing him to loose all hope in finding a way out. He let out a small cry, just a tiny one, to show how much he feared the man above him.

The monster grew disgusted in the being below him. He firmly grasped the object in his gloved hand and slowly brought it up into the cool, crisp air. The magnificent piece of metal hung in the air, waiting to be brought down onto the small male. The snarl grew wider as the monster quickly brought the weapon down.

The prey has no time to cry out, no time to scream and beg for a few more seconds of life. The hard, unforgiving piece of metal leaves his throat not wanting to cry out, but leaves it wanting air to breathe in one last time. His eyes, which were once full of life and innocence, glaze over and onto one side, not focusing on anything. His copper hair which was once soft and silky-the special type of hair that the man above him would run his hands through while whispering sweet nothings into his ear-was now matted and caked with dirt and crimson.

The monster's icy blue eyes dart around greedily, licking up any sight of the delicious crimson drug staining the walls. The being underneath him lay unmoving-the being he once called 'friend', the being he once shared an oath with, the man he once called his love. He brought the joyous weapon down once again, this time leaving a dent in the skin he fractured, then again, again, _again!_ He couldn't get enough, he still wanted, lusted, _craved_ for more and more of the beautiful scene before him. He still wanted to smell the sweet aroma of iron in the air, still wanted the sound of mental puncturing skin and bone as he watched the skin begin to peel away to reveal hard, white bone. His crazed grin grew larger at the sight of it. Each time he violently brought down the instrument of torture, the body spurted and gave out more blood baths than the one before, feeding his want for that need. You can clearly hear the sound of the harsh _thump_ echo throughout the walls as he takes one last swing at his victim. He slowly turns, facing the bloodied red path he created.

Now…do you hear it?

That magnificent sound?

_Clank…clank…clank…_


End file.
